


The Flood

by Filigranka



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Additional Treat, Gen, dark!AU, trick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8357134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/pseuds/Filigranka
Summary: She didn't care about love anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).



> "An AU where Galadriel will take the Ring and become a great and terrible Queen, and all shall love her, and despair."
> 
> Oooh, I love your letter.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this ficlet!
> 
>  
> 
> Beta-ed by my favourite Bazylia. ;)

“All shall love me and despair”. Galadriel smiled to the memories. It was hard to see such words as anything but naivety now, when she had tasted power.

They worshipped and feared her. They obeyed her. That was all that mattered. Their despair was meaningless and their love – a nice detail, not important enough to be sought in the greater scheme of things.

Her son sailed to the West – an act of defiance or cowardice, who could tell? Perhaps he didn’t want to give her his support. Perhaps he didn’t want to oppose her. Wise choice, either way; she showed little sentiment to both enemies and allies, and every king had to be wary of their heirs.

She allowed him to go, for she had been a mother once, even if those days that word seemed hollow. Besides, she didn’t want to prove herself a worse parent than Curufin – she had her pride, always, and she didn’t intend to let the scions of Fëanor win even a single battle, even from the Halls of Mandos, where, as they said, everything was chasing after the wind.

Ah. But she had duelled with Maiars and emerged victorious. She held this world as hers and hers alone, and the Valars could be damned.

Celeborn – she didn’t allow him to go, for it would have painted her weak, a woman abandoned by her husband, a woman who couldn’t even properly bind her own consort, let alone a world – whispered, straight into the silken sheets, far gentler than she was those days, ‘It’s only now that I see your family’s blood in you.’

She kissed his brow. He was the only one who still truly loved her, the only one to truly despair.

‘Ah, dearest,’ she spoke softly, thinking about Fëanor asking for a lock of her hair; she had rejected him and he hadn’t taken it by force, the naïve fool. ‘I’m so much better.’


End file.
